Blazkowicz's Escape
by r0ck3t3r
Summary: Has waking up in a Nazi prison left Agent Blazokwic'z in bad mood? Will he take it easy on those Nazi scum bags? Find out here!


I don't own Wolfenstein. This is just loosely based on that game.

William "B.J." Blazkowicz cracked open his eyes. The faint light, cold stone floor and rank smell jolted his senses. He bolted to his feet and looked around him. He was in a tiny cell. His head throbbed. He had been captured.

"Damn it!" He cursed. Quickly, Agent Blazkowicz took an inventory of his belongings. He was wearing a dark field uniform with no insignia. He had been stripped of all his gear. He had his knife. His boot knife! They had left it. The thin handle stuck unnoticed from the top of his right boot.

"Stupid Nazi scum." He said. Looking Around, Agent Blazkowicz noticed that the cell was rather small, he had an idea. He had nothing to lose.

"This one's just about finished." Said the Interrogator. He was an older thin man with frizzy gray hair and a white lab coat. "Please fetch me the other one." The American on the table gasped his last breath and expired. Smoke rose from open mouth.

"Yes, Sir!" Saluted the somewhat portly jailer. He was dressed in an ill kept Nazi field uniform that smelled of the dungeon. The jailer made his way to the down a set of stairs to the cell blocks. He walked down to the end of a large hallway and stopped just before a massive oak door. The prisoner was old cold ten minutes earlier so he did not expect the prisoner to put up much of a fight. He pulled out his luger and opened the door. Nothing. "The American!" He gasped. He walked to the middle of the cell and turned around to rush out.

Agent Blazkowicz dropped from the ceiling and landed on the guard. His knife bit into the neck of the guard and severed his spinal cord before they even reached the ground. Blazkowicz quickly took the guards Lugger in his right hand and kept the knife in his left. He felt the warm wetness of the guard's blood on his right arm and chest. He smiled.

"Killing Nazis always makes me feel like sunshine." He mumbled to himself. He quickly left the cell and slowly began to ascend the stairs. He heard the interrogator humming tunelessly to himself. He looked into a small barred window to see the next room.

"Garchite, Hurry up with the prisoner!" said the interrogator. He turned to wash his hands at a small sink next to the charred remains or Blazkowicz's partner and long time friend. Needless to say, Blazkowicz was a little pissed off.

Blazkowicz slipped noiselessly inside and closed the gate behind him. It clanged louder than he had anticipated.

"Ah, there you are. Put the prisoner on the other table." said the interrogator. Blazkowicz to the back of the interrogator and pistol whipped the man in the back of the head. He went out like a light, slamming into the floor with a loud thud. Agent Blazkowicz put his gun and knife away and lifted the small man onto the table. Copying the configuration of the his dead partner, Agent Blazkowicz strapped the interrogator into the electrocuting machine. He turned it on and turned around to leave. The man recovered consciousness quickly and began screaming. His screams were ignored. It was nothing unusual for this part of the compound. He expired after 30 seconds. His body had begun to burn. Blazkowicz put his knife away and had the luger in both hands covering the hallway in front of him.

Blazkowicz climbed another set of stairs and found himself at the opening of a small room with several pillars in the middle. He saw a guard with his back to Blazkowicz, the knee and leg of another guard from behind the pillar, and a third guard who had just spotted him lifting his gun from the entrance on the other side of the room. Blazkowicz had to think fast. He put a bullet into the head of the last guard in the door way. The noise created a deafening boom in the small room. He pistol whipped the first guard as he turned and lifted his rifle. The guard went down and Blazkowicz stomped his skull in with his heavy boots as he took aim at the last guard as the guard raced across the room to pull the alarm. Blazkowicz put a bullet in his neck and then shot him in the head. Blazkowicz took the MP40 at his feet and snatched the ammo belt off the dead guard. He ran across the room stopping only to take a few more cartridges from the guard in the doorway. He looked down a new hallway thru the sights of his new weapon. Nothing stirred.


End file.
